A Lost Girl for a Lost Boy
by alphinski
Summary: Peter Pan's quest to find the heart of the truest believer leads him to an orphanage and an unsuspecting Emma Swan - AU in which Emma meets Peter as a young girl and really she should have known better
1. Unlocked Locks

**A/N: **I really wanted to explore Emma's childhood and well Peter Pan and this happened.

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There was something about a heart that gave it a distinct rhythm, setting it apart from the rest. If you were attuned to the sound of the one you sought you could pick it out from across an ocean or even if it lay in a distant land. It so happened that the sound that was now engrained in him had led him here to this strange place where magic lay dormant and those who believed were ridiculed. It was here he lay in wait till darkness fell so he could finally make his move.

He didn't usually make the trips himself but with a job like this he'd never trust anyone else, not even his own shadow, _especially _not his own shadow. With the heart of the truest believer came power, enough power to set free all that he had spent decades building. He had come here alone and he would not leave without the heart or the one who possessed it.

The steady beating came from a ratty looking window in a dingy neighbourhood with no curtain to keep the chill out, how ironic, if only they knew what was housed inside. It probably wasn't locked either. A pity really, all the best fun was locked away and it was usually his job to break in. Ah well, there were other ways to have fun. Adjusting himself so he was cross-legged even as he floated, he reached for his pipe. He'd fill the night with a melody for the unloved and the lost and wait for them to wake.

Halfway through his second song he paused. There was a thrumming of hearts beating together in the room, not one or two but seven and they were all rising to his music. If he didn't know better he would even say that this was a-it was an _orphanage, _of course, he'd missed the dusty sign hanging at the front of the building. A home for lost children. It would not do to wake all of them; appeasing seven children at once was just a waste of time. No, it would be better to simply find the one he desired and leave.

He moved to the window, sliding it open with ease and stepped into the still dark room. It smelled of dampness and rot and he guessed it hadn't been cleaned properly in years. There were dark shapes stirring in their sleep, each curled up in a tiny bunk against the wall. With a wave of his hand he ensured that they would not rise until dawn. He had no use for them. Orphanages were too easy to prey on; there was just no fun in stealing away little boys who'd lost all hope. Pan liked them with fire and a will to _live. _He picked the ones who let themselves feel the magic that surrounded them when they heard his pipe even if they couldn't see it. Sure, it was a setback that the heart of the truest believer lived among those that had long since accepted their fate but perhaps its power had left it untarnished.

As he stepped out of the shadows so he could assess where it rested he felt something hard against his back. Stiffening by instinct, he listened; ragged breathing desperate to be controlled, an elbow knocking against the wall and the sound of a beating heart that he recognised. But something was wrong. After memorising the rhythm for years he'd be able to pick it out anywhere and while this one here was strikingly similar, listening to it now with only inches between them he could hear the subtle differences.

He clenched his jaw, Pan always got what he came for and he hated disappointment.

"Stop," cried a voice as he was about to turn. The thing against his back dug harder into his shoulder blades making him stand up straight. "Do not turn. I'm warning you."

It might as well have been an invitation. He turned to face the hooded figure, a foot shorter than him and armed with a broom handle. "That wasn't quite the welcome I was hoping for but it _was _rude of me to leave the window open I suppose," he shrugged. "Would you like me to shut it?"

"Leave now before I call the Police."

"They sound dangerous but I'm afraid I can't do that."

The figure shifted from foot to foot and he took the opportunity to summon a gust of wind, strong enough to make the nearest blanket rustle and blow back the hood from his assailant's face.

Her breath hitched as she took a half-step back before narrowing her eyes, apparently deciding to stand her ground.

His reaction would have been more eloquent had he not been so surprised. "You're a girl?"

She nodded, blonde hair still blowing wildly as she tightened her grip on the broom handle. "I know who you are."

"Really?" he asked, forcing his smirk back and tilting his head as he did when he was teasing his boys. "Tell me, Emma Swan. Who am I?"

"How do you know my name?" she demanded, weapon hand twitching dangerously. It really was quite amusing. Did she honestly believe she could assault him with that?

"I'll tell you if you tell me how you know mine."

"You're Peter Pan. They made a movie about you." She watched him suspiciously. "How do you know my name?"

"It's carved into your best post," he gestured to the only empty bed in the cramped room.

"Well what do you want?"

"Now, now, I believe it's my turn to ask you a question."

"This isn't a game, Peter Pan. You're not real. That song you played before wasn't real and I'm not supposed to be imagining these things anymore."

He pretended to be affronted. "Not real? How rude! To think I was all set to offer you the most marvelous adventure. Wait-you heard the song?"

She nodded soberly. "It woke me."

Pan reached for his pipe again, watching the girl carefully as he played. She shivered the second he began before swaying lightly on her feet like she was dreaming. "That's never happened before," he muttered under his breath. First it was the heartbeat and now she could hear the song of the Lost Boys. Who was this Emma Swan? None of the girls he'd played for before had been able to hear his music. To Emma he said, "Forgive me for intruding. It looks like you know all about me so I suppose you know what happens next?"

"You take me away to Neverland and we fight Captain Hook together and the Crocodile that swallowed the clock with Tinkerbell and her fairy dust although I really didn't like her that much... but that is...if..." she looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, "if you were really here."

"Emma Swan, you really are not as clever as I thought you were. Although I don't know why I thought you were clever at all. You threatened me with a broomstick!"

"I'm plenty clever," huffed the girl, the determined look back again. Good. He liked it that way. He dodged lightly when she thrust the broomstick forward to remind him that she still held it, or perhaps to reassure herself. "Edna says that if I continue to believe every ridiculous story ever told to me when I was a child she will toss me to the institute and do you know what they do to people there?" Pan shook his head. He had to admit he was intrigued by the creeping sense of fear in her voice and this Edna sounded like a pain as well. Perhaps a visit from the Shadow was in order? "They give you endless pills and dozens of injections everyday and once you're in there you can never escape."

It sounded a bit like Neverland but without the magic of it all. "Are you not a child now, Emma Swan?"

The seemed to have been caught off guard by the question. She considered it for a few seconds before tensing and shaking her head."No...I-I don't know."

"Well, where I'm from there is no Edna to tell us what we can and cannot believe. We have fairies and mermaids and ships that travel between worlds. I taught your Captain Hook how to open up one of those portals once."

"But Captain Hook is evil!"

Peter laughed. "No one is evil. Not really. I've never met anyone without something holding them back."

"So you didn't feed Hook's hand to the Crocodile?"

"I think you're tales are incredibly mixed up. What other stories have your people been spreading of Neverland?"

"I'll tell you, but only if you promise to tell me what really happened there."

"Excellent, let's make a deal."

"And you won't cheat your way out?"

"You'll just have to trust me. I don't know what they've told you about me, Emma Swan but I can keep a promise."

She bit her lip, staring thoughtfully at the pipe he still held in his hands. Finally she seemed to make up her mind and beckoned to her bed where they sat cross-legged together, heads bent so they wouldn't bump into the bunk above. "So, have you met Wendy Darling yet?"

She tried to explain the idea of movies to him, a concept he found quite fantastical really. It was unbelievable they had even survived in a land without magic but the things they were able to do had always fascinated him.

In return she'd listened almost studiously to every word and every tale he offered about Neverland. She watched him closely like she was trying to gage whether he was telling the truth and at times when he had to leave out some of the details like the true nature of the shadow or his own quest for the heart he had believed belonged to her, he almost suspected that she knew what he was evading. He swiftly moved away from those stories and talked instead of camp fires and feasts and the places he had explored with the Lost Boys for company. She seemed fixed on the idea of the Lost Boys. She listened almost wistfully, asking endless questions about life in the woods, taking it all in like she was making a mental note of it somewhere. Every time the story deviated from the odd ones she had learned she frowned but let him carry on.

It was easy to get lost in his own tale and it was easy to lose track of time. An audience captivated not by terror or the sheer force of his magic but by his words alone was a refreshing change from home. They talked for hours, until the starry night had faded to navy blue with hints of red signalling the sun's rise.

When he chanced a look out of the open window and realized with a start that he had spent far too long here. "Red sky at morning..." he murmured, shaking his head, "I have to go, Emma"

"Please stay, I haven't had anyone to talk to in so long."

She stared at him, wide eyes begging and he sighed. "What about them?" he gestured to the other children who were beginning to stir and cough and turn again as the sleeping spell began to wear off. "You have them."

"You don't understand. They-we can't be friends, not if we want to survive in this place. There's no such thing as friends here. We're all alone."

_Aren't we all? _He supposed it was like being with the Lost Boys – every boy for himself. It was lonely living that way. Wasn't that why he'd insisted on the endless celebrations and the jolly parties? He needed them to make his self imposed exile bearable. In all honesty he really could have built his island fortress and continued his quest without them but it was far too boring a thought to even imagine. Besides, they would adore him when he succeeded. Everyone in the magical realms would adore him. He didn't know what connection this Emma Swan had with the heart he searched for but he did not need to befriend her to find out. He owed her nothing.

"I can't take you with me. You're a girl. There'd be no place for you on Neverland. Remember what happened in the tale you told me about Wendy Darling. It would never work."

"Please?"

Peter shook his head, feeling a hint of sadness. He didn't like sadness. It was too raw an emotion and all it brought with it was loneliness and _that _he would not allow. He took it as his cue to leave, climbing up onto the window frame. He owed her nothing.

Emma let out a frustrated sigh, curling her hands tightly into her sheets. "Will you at least visit me tomorrow?"

"Perhaps I will."

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To be continued. DUN DUN DUN!

Let me know what you think!


	2. The Lost Can Be Found

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed the episode and thank you very much for your lovely responses. I now present to you part 2 :)

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**Chapter 2:**

"The Lost can be Found"

He had surprised himself the following night when despite his initial hesitation he'd returned to the orphanage. Then again it was the wisest thing to do and Peter Pan was all about wisdom. The girl quite possibly knew something that could help him and he wasn't taking any chances with that. Knowledge could be engrained in someone without their permission, perhaps simply introducing her to the world of magic would trigger a revelation or an answer or even a long forgotten story that could help him. It was for this reason and this reason alone that he paid her another visit.

As soon as he let himself in his eyes went straight to where she lay huddled, thin sheets wrapped around her. She was studying him, eyes squinting to catch a glimpse in the dark. "I knew you would be back."

"You were expecting me?"

Nodding she pulled the sheets tighter to herself. "We weren't finished yet, were we? With all of our stories, I mean."

"No, I don't suppose we were." He took a seat by her feet which seemed unusually cold. The blankets were itchier than they were warm so it was no surprise that she was shivering. "You should really wear something warmer you know, a jacket maybe."

Emma frowned. "I don't have a jacket. I used to but it didn't fit so I gave it to one of the younger girls. It-It doesn't matter anyway. I don't need a jacket. I'm not cold."

Peter couldn't help but smile at her conviction. She was obviously freezing. He looked to the window that he'd left open once again and with the magic he still possessed in this land, shut it.

"You didn't have to do that." Her grateful sigh as soft as it was told him everything she was too stubborn to say.

"I guess I was a little cold," he shrugged.

She smiled briefly before narrowing her eyes at him. "What else can you do with your magic?"

It was the question he'd been waiting for. Peter smirked at her, "Everything. With magic you can do everything and no one can ever stop you." He paused for dramatic effect. She was obviously interested, he didn't need to hook her, he needed to reel her in. "My pipe is magic as well, you know."

Emma nodded. "It did sound magical. When you play it almost feels like the melody is carrying me away to some distant place."

That was what he had gathered from the accounts of the Lost Boys. Once they gave in to the music it possessed them but at the same time gave them more freedom than they had ever even imagined. "It's enchanted so only children who feel...lost or lonely can hear it." He watched her carefully but she wouldn't return his gaze, choosing to fix her eyes on the window instead.

"I'm not lonely, you know. I have friends," she whispered at last. "One time when Edna wasn't looking Russell gave me his slice of cheese after I punched Todd Henderson at school. He was my friend, wasn't he? You can't be lonely if you have friends."

"Emma-"

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me." Her voice was harsh and she finally met his eyes. She looked like she would punch _him _any second if he wasn't careful.

"I didn't mean anything by it, just stating the facts."

"Well, _don't. _I get enough of that from the other girls in my class. Just because I live here doesn't mean-"

"Emma," he rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic, I don't have them either. Friends, I mean...parents too for that matter. I don't need them, nor do you. All they do is hold us back."

"But you have the Lost Boys."

He'd been careful enough about revealing the true nature of his relationship with the Lost Boys but Emma held onto every detail he let slip about them and already she knew too much. It seemed like the more she found out the more curious she became. If there was one thing Emma Swan was good at it was asking questions and figuring out exactly how many of his answers were the truth. It was better to simply dodge those questions.

He concentrated on a spot in the centre of the room instead and before long there were green flames leaping up, about chest high. The small room glowed with the dancing green light making shadows flicker across Emma's delighted face. "It's beautiful," she murmured, "but won't the others wake up?"

"I've taken care of them. They won't wake till dawn."

The flames took the shape of a large green serpent, rising proudly up to the ceiling and flicking its tongue out in greeting. Given that he hadn't done that in years he was quite proud of it. Emma wasn't watching though. She'd fixed him with that narrow eyed look that meant she was either suspicious or annoyed. "You didn't... hurt them, did you?"

The serpent let out a hiss and the sound of crackling flames filled the room. "Relax Emma, they're asleep, that's all. If anything I probably helped them. Most of them have nightmares, you know, at least now they'll be dreaming of Neverland."

That was enough for her. She turned back to the flames, laughing delightedly as the serpent changed shape once again into a dragon this time. It let out a jet of golden flames, brilliant against its emerald body and turned its head to Emma. "She's beautiful," breathed Emma, staring up at the creature.

"Do you want to hear about the time I slew a dragon?"

Of course she did. She settled back down in her bed and watched him expectantly even as the dragon retreated back into the flames. "Tell me."

Once again they talked and time seemed to be against them. Midnight became the early hours of the morning and when Peter's voice grew hoarse they sat back in silence to watch the lightening sky.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"I didn't really know if you were coming back." Peter watched as she looked down to her hands. They were tracing patterns on the mattress. "I actually didn't even know if you were real. I thought I'd imagined you."

"How do you know that you're not imagining me now?"

"I don't."

"And you never will. You could wake up one day in a comfortable house, warm and happy with your family around you. You could be a Princess for all you know and find yourself waking up in a castle," he smiled, "or this could be it, you could be awake right now and this could be all you will ever get. Either way, you are going to have to live, right? You might as well make it fun."

"For a boy who refuses to be a grownup you know a lot about everything," Emma told him, but when she smiled he knew that she understood.

"What can I say? Eternity is an awfully long time. Wisdom comes with age and I've seen enough of the world to pick up a few things on the way... what was that you said they called me in your land? _The boy who never grew up?_ Ridiculous name, really. They should just call me the boy who never stopped _living_."

Emma laughed. "I'll let them know. Maybe they'll make another movie."

He laughed but as he took in the stirring bodies in the beds around them the humor faded. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"I have to leave now."

There was no horrified expression, only one of peace. She didn't beg him to take her away to Neverland this time and he was more than alright with that. Sure, it was a little suspicious but he had also found himself beginning to consider the idea and that was just dangerous.

He watched as she smiled and simply said, "Okay, see you later Peter."

* * *

It became a habit, one that he didn't even try to suppress. If he had eternity he figured he may as well enjoy some of the perks, there would be plenty more time to work. Most nights they spent in the orphanage but sometimes he would bring along pixie dust and invite Emma to fly with him. It got to the point where even Felix noticed and being the oldest of the boys he'd apparently felt duty bound to comment.

"Are you visiting her again, tonight?" he'd asked, hood obscuring his face in that way that made the younger boys shrink away.

Peter had tried not to sound defensive. "She is the strongest lead we have."

"You know some of the boys are beginning to wonder... they've been asking questions."

"Need I remind you, Felix," he'd said slowly, "that this is none of your business. It is your job to deal with them. Squash any doubt in their minds and make them believe in our cause again."

"I understand. I just thought it might be more... effective if the shadow dealt with her, that's all." Peter's anger must have been evident because the boy had quickly backed away looking terrified as he apologized pathetically.

"You have orders, Felix. There will be no more talk of this, do you understand?" Felix had nodded and scrambled away and that had been it. He was free to roam between the lands as he pleased and he was free to visit Emma at nightfall.

She had taken to reading to him stories about the Enchanted Forest and even Wonderland. It was incredible how much the people in this world knew about magic and yet from what he had gathered they seemed to hate it. He'd heard about the purges and those dark times when those even suspected of attempting witchcraft had been burnt on pyres. Then there were those who refused to so much as accept that magic existed. Their race was divided and it confused him to no end.

"Why do your people hate magic so much?" he asked Emma one night as they were both perched on her window sill. She'd told him that she'd always wanted to sit there but was afraid of falling. He'd given her some pixie dust to put her mind at ease and it had soon become her favourite spot.

"What do you mean? I don't hate magic."

"Not you, I mean the grownups. They refuse to believe in it and when they do they seek to destroy it."

Emma laughed. "Don't worry about them. I expect that once you grow up you need to control everything. You need everything to make sense and well... a dragon made of green flames doesn't _really _make that much sense, does it?"

"I beg to differ."

"Well that's because you're from Neverland. We don't have dragons here, they're just in fantasy books and movies. Sometimes you need to see something to believe in it."

"You believed in me before you met me."

"I'm not a grownup."

"I hope you'll never be."

Emma shook her head. "I know I have to someday but when I grow up I'm not going to be like them. I'll always believe."

For some reason, or perhaps simply because he really wanted it to be true, he believed her.

"So why do they hate us?"

"I expect it's because they don't understand it so they're scared. They hate people like me too, you know, just because we don't have parents to keep us in line or teach us to behave. They're scared that somehow we'll go insane and pass it on like a disease. They're scared because it's too hard to accept that we're human just like them. I suppose that's why they have the institution as well."

"Your people don't sound very nice."

"They're not-" Emma broke off, suddenly looking a little scared herself. "Actually, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you..." Peter waited for her to continue. She'd speak up in her own time. "These people came in here earlier looking for a young girl about my age to adopt and well, they're coming back in a couple of days to take me home with them."

He didn't know what to say. "Does this... please you?"

"No," she cried, wobbling dangerously as she faced him. "No I am not. This might not be the best place to live but I've been to one of those homes before. All they want is for you to fit into their version of a family and they try to change you until you do and it just never works. I don't want to change for them."

"Maybe it'll be different this time."

"It won't."

Peter sighed. "Can't you say no?"

"Edna would kill me."

"Well, what if you fly away with me instead? We can return to Neverland together." It slipped out before he could really stop himself. Emma turned to him, studying him from under her lashes. Maybe she'd say no. She hadn't asked him to take her away since that first meeting.

"Would you really do that for me?"

"You can be the first Lost Girl. There are no rules in Neverland, remember? There's nothing stopping you."

She threw her arms around him with such force that they both toppled out. The rush of cool air did him some good but he frantically reached for his pouch of pixie dust anyway. It would be a pity if they both fell to their deaths. In retrospect he probably wouldn't have died anyway- another perk of the immortality thing. She clung to him and laughed as they floated back up to the window. "Thank you, Peter, for everything."

"Be ready at midnight tomorrow." She nodded and smiled, hugging him again more delicately this time.

He tried to smile with her but he found there was a niggling feeling of dread settling in his stomach. It was Felix and those stupid doubts that he'd planted. Taking Emma back to Neverland would only make it easier to concentrate on his quest. Really, he would be doing them both a favour.

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**A/N: **Hope you liked it. One more chapter to go! As always feedback appreciated.


	3. Promises Are Made To Be Broken

**A/N: **Unfortunately this is the end of the road, for this fic at least. Thank you so much for reading and I hope enjoy xx

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**Chapter 3:**

**'Promises Are Made to be Broken'**

Tonight was the night. She knew what she had to do or at least she thought she did. It couldn't be too hard, right? What was a few nights huddled in an alleyway compared to the horrors other people had to endure daily? She'd almost managed to convince herself that sleeping underneath the stars would be fun and the fact that she may not eat for a while did not unsettle her. She'd lay low and decide how to move forward. Emma Swan would disappear and she'd be able to reinvent herself like they did in books or those action movies. She wasn't taking any chances this time though. Her escape would be planned with the utmost care. She'd rely on her wits to carry her through, not the weak hope magic offered.

The bag she'd packed weeks ago and stowed away under her bed was still waiting for her, collecting cobwebs no doubt. As she waited for the quiet murmurs of the others to die down she tried to make a mental list of everything it held. Her mind was in too much of a mess and after the third attempt she had to give up, there was no use trying to keep track of anything when all she could really focus on was her speeding heart.

Forcing herself to breathe she strained her ears. When the gentle snores of resting children was all she could make out in the still room she was on her knees, crawling with one arm outstretched until she found the old duffel bag.

It had taken her about a month to collect everything she needed or had assumed she would need and she clutched it to herself, cobwebs and all. These would be her only possessions now. Not that she had owned much before. Still, she would miss the books she would be leaving behind. They were too heavy to carry and would only slow her down.

Sitting up again she observed the still room around her. It was time. She had to get out of here.

Her hands moved automatically to her pocket, feeling for the jar of pixie dust that Pan had given her, except her pockets were empty. She must have lost it when they'd toppled out of the window. The excuse sounded weak even to her own ears. Logic begged her to accept it for what it was, a dream that she'd managed to lose herself in. She'd been planning on running away that first night she'd seen him. Obviously her mind had simply created him as a distraction or some sort of hope so she wouldn't have to leave. She wouldn't fall for that twice.

There was no way she could take the drop from the second-storey window but she could always climb out of the kitchen one on the first floor. Nodding to herself she moved to the door, ignoring the sting of betrayal that she had tried to suppress for two weeks. Second star to the right and straight on till morning, they were stupid instructions from a stupid boy, w_ho you made up so you wouldn't have to run away Emma get that into your thick skull._

She was reaching for the door handle when a loud thump made her spring back. Something rolled against the wooden floor towards her and she almost laughed. It was just the broom. Russell must have kicked it in his sleep. It had been leaning against his bed after all.

Scolding herself back in line she turned her back to the room once more. If she started at every single noise the night made she would get nowhere. Not stopping till she was out in the corridor she padded as soft as she could past Edna's room and then down the stairs.

It was easy going after that. The kitchen window like most others in the group home was unlocked. It wasn't like anyone would even bother breaking in here. Everyone knew the house held nothing of real value.

_This is it_, she thought as she slid it open. She threw her shoes out first, listening for the soft thud as they landed on the grass below. Then it was her turn and bag against her back she jumped out, shrinking immediately to the shadows for fear that she had made too much noise. A few minutes passed before she moved out and chanced a look up. There was no light, a good sign.

The bus stop wasn't far from here, she'd passed it often enough on her way to school or perhaps she could catch the train. She had enough money for both. One week without any lunch and she had saved up enough for the trip. She'd also found a $10 note in one of Edna's pockets when she was doing the laundry. She'd taken that as well, keeping it hidden deep within her bag. She'd promised herself that one day she would pay Edna back, Emma Swan was no thief after all. She was about to set off towards the bus stop when she realized one of her feet was still bare. She couldn't find the other shoe that she'd so unceremoniously tossed out earlier. With a frustrated groan she searched frantically.

She found it at last beside a broken pot that had once been the pride of the small garden. Edna would have a fit in the morning but Emma found that she really did not care. She grabbed the shoe, brushing off the mud and slipping it on. She'd have to run now, or at least jog. The midnight bus was the last for the day and if she missed that, well, she wouldn't get far by foot.

* * *

He'd expected the night to go as all the others before it, Emma tossing and turning in bed as she tried to get comfortable. She'd fall asleep in the early hours of the morning and Peter usually took that as his cue to leave. Actually it had started to get dreadfully boring now.

The night he was supposed to have flown her away with him he had made it all the way to the large town centre with its thousands of tiny lamps that lit the streets despite the darkness that had set in. He'd hesitated for a moment too long, watching them, unaware that the doubt that had begun to sprout the night before had finally broken free and had begun to engulf him. He knew that he couldn't do it. She was too much of a distraction. Felix had been right or at least that's what he told himself.

He'd visited her anyway after assuring himself many times that he'd soon get bored of her and move on. He just wanted to see how she'd react. It might even make it easier to leave once he saw how he'd crushed the hope from her. Yes, that was definitely why he'd returned, to inspect his handiwork. He could brag about this to the other boys later. How easy it was to kill a little girl's belief in all things magical.

"-and then they told me that they had a dog. A beautiful golden retriever called Benny, they said. He had been a part of their family for five years and now they wanted a daughter." Ah so she had met with the foster parents. He inspected her as she sat on the window sill with her legs dangling out. It only took a simple concealment spell and he could float as close as he needed to. There was a soft smile playing across her lips and for a second Peter imagined that she'd changed her mind. Perhaps she had liked the couple enough to want to live with them. Perhaps she didn't want an escape after all. It was a strangely comforting thought though he could not tell why. "They want a-a perfect little daughter to complete their perfect little family," she spoke softly, voice catching a little as she ducked her head so her face was hidden. It was a pity because by now Peter could read her better than he could read his own people."I really want to go, Peter. I do! It sounds amazing and they're perfectly wonderful people."

He watched her sigh, playing with her hands as she did when she was deep in thought. _Tell me to leave, _he thought, because that was it! That was the answer he had been searching for. That was why he was here. If she told him to leave he'd have no other choice and then they'd be out of this mess for good. But if she told him to stay... "But I can't, can I? You know I can't."

Peter almost answered, he just managed to smack a hand over his mouth in time. It would not do to give himself away. Of course she wasn't going to make it easy and simply tell him he was no longer needed. He hated her for that.

"I'm like you, aren't I? A Lost Girl, just like you said. They don't deserve me, you know. That's why I can't go and I told them as much. I told them I didn't want to see them ever again because- because I can't be their perfect little daughter, I _can't._" She scrunched up her face. "I'm talking to myself now, _great. _Just on the off chance that you _can _hear me, can you please hurry up?"

The second night was just a repeated mantra. "Peter, please. Please, please, _please._" Over and over again until her voice grew hoarse and she'd fallen asleep.

On the third night there was nothing. She'd left her window open but she lay in bed, looking glumly out the at the sky without a word. Suddenly Peter didn't really feel like bragging. In fact he sort of wished he'd never brought Emma Swan up because now when the other boys asked him what had become of her... well shame wasn't something he was well acquainted with but the feeling crept over him now and he simply let it consume him.

But all of that was in the past. He was here now, a couple of weeks later, crouching in the shadows by one of the other beds. He didn't need to hide for he still had the spell to cloak him but it was all the more thrilling this way. He watched her crawl under the bed, re-emerging seconds later with a faded blue duffel bag that looked like it was ready to fall to pieces in her hands. She clutched it tightly to herself and looked around warily. What was she doing? She'd never done this before.

He watched her walk to the window, trembling nervously and reaching in her pocket. He moved to join her, almost tripping over something-a broom- the same broom she had assaulted him with on their first meeting. Thankfully he caught it before it could make a sound but by the time he looked up again, Emma was turning away from the window. He almost missed the flash of anger as she walked past him once again, heading for the door this time.

He did make a noise then. He threw the broom to the ground with a thud, watching in satisfaction when she started back with a gasp. It was childish, he admitted it freely, but he was Peter Pan and it had never stopped him before. After weeks of silence it was nice to know that she could still feel his presence, that she had acknowledged it. He saw her laugh nervously when she spotted the broom roll towards her and waited for her to accuse him of spying or stalking or _something _insulting that had always seemed endearing coming from her_._ Instead she simply turned back to the door even more purposefully than she had before and disappeared.

That struck him. Actually he found it almost insulting. Surely she'd recognized the broom? Surely she'd understand that he was still here watching her. If she'd asked him to take her away once again he most certainly would have caved. He hated to admit it to himself but it was true. He would have taken her. Apparently the significance of the gesture was lost on her though. It was like she no longer believed in him and he could not have that. Peter loved a challenge.

He heard the window slide open and that was all the warning he needed to position himself. She had chosen one of the lower windows, a smart move he supposed. Why she hadn't just used the pixie dust was beyond him. Well actually, it might not have worked for her. You had to truly believe in it to work and he highly doubted Emma was in any state to do that. Heart of the truest believer indeed, he could almost laugh. Emma had been doubting him since they'd met. Perhaps fate had played a nasty trick on him and she had no connection to the heart he desired at all.

Peter shrugged the thoughts away as he heard the shoes fall with a soft thud. He knew what to do. With a smirk he plucked one up, flinging it at a nearby flower pot. It looked like the most expensive thing in this dump. Surely Emma would notice this time.

He was fast tiring of being wrong. It wasn't amusing anymore it was just downright frustrating. The girl seemed to be dead set on ignoring anything out of the ordinary. Short of something dramatic like lifting her into the air or making it rain horses he had no idea how far he had to go to just make her _feel _his presence without actually seeing him. She'd promised him once that she would always believe. _Obviously her promises are as weak as mine_, he thought grimly.

He watched her hurry along, following her all the way to a small bus stop. She was clinging to the duffel bag, looking first left, then right, then left again almost desperately. He took a seat beside her, leaving a good couple of inches in case she accidently brushed against him. (He didn't want to scare the living daylights out of her although it might have been amusing).

For a few minutes she sat dead still then all of a sudden she began rapidly rubbing her hands together, breath fogging when she cursed to herself. The stupid girl had forgotten her jacket, _again._ He wasn't quite sure where she was going but the chances of her actually surviving were not looking good.

Rolling his eyes, Peter watched the road instead. There was a pile of leaves lying by the curb and he watched them for a good few seconds before feeling the beginnings of an idea. It was a brilliant one, slightly wild but one Emma surely could not miss no matter how hard she tried to deny his existence.

Closing his eyes, he reached out with his magic into the night air. He felt the power surge through him even as the slight breeze turned into a cool rush of air. He heard the whistling of the wind and directed it at the leaves, opening his eyes so he could watch them rise. He concentrated on the image of a dragon, as fierce as Emma had been that night she had tried to attack Peter Pan with a broomstick.

It worked. He could make out the proud wings as they stretched out wide enough that they could've easily engulfed the tiny bus stop. A jet of leafy flames escaped the mouth of the creature and Peter couldn't help the surge of pride. He turned to smirk at Emma, set to watch her gasp of disbelief as her mouth made that small O it always did when she was taken aback. Except she wasn't taken aback. Instead she had her bag over her face as she tried to shield herself from the wind. She groaned loudly. "Just my luck," he heard her mutter under her breath.

Headlights made them both turn with a start and Emma jumped out of her seat, walking right into the whirling leaves as she held out her hand and waved frantically. Peter snorted, letting go of the spell he had been holding on to. The wind died and he watched the leaves fall, some landing in her hair as they made their descent. The bus stopped for her, the driver barely even looking suspicious as he let the young girl board.

This town was quite possibly stranger to him than Neverland or perhaps it was just Emma. Either way he knew it was over, he couldn't wait for her. She was just a girl after all, a small, insignificant girl in the grand scheme of things_. _He had larger problems to face. Sliding over to where Emma had been sitting barely a minute ago he watched the bus drive by. Perhaps he was just imagining it but he could have sworn he saw the girl's eyes widen as they found his. Then again it was probably just wishful thinking. He seemed to have made a bad habit of it recently.

* * *

**Fin**

Thank you guys again for reading and sticking around till the end. I really want to continue this verse, maybe with present day Emma or at least an epilogue but I think for now this will have to do. As always please let me know what you think!


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